It's happened. His name is Monkey or Monk for short. Riley holds him tight to her chest when I put her down at night and I find her asleep on his plush, furry belly. I wish I could sleep on his belly. It really is super soft. And there he is in the morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed – ready for kisses. Riley opens her mouth as wide as she can and stuffs Monkey's face into it. I'm sure there is some literature on the rules of having, or not having, a Monk. I never read any pregnancy or baby books. I wanted to trust my own instincts as a Mom. So there are some nights I slip it out from under her arm. But most of the time it's too endearing and I don't have the heart.
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